Return to Springfield
by TheCartoonFanatic01
Summary: A terrible decision leads to Marge divorcing Homer and kicking him out of the house for good. Fifteen years later, Homer returns to Springfield after traveling abroad, to attend Lisa's wedding, but upon his return, he faces the problem of trying to reconnect with his still-angry family. Can he win back their love? R&R! DISCONTINUED!
1. Entry 1

**A/N:** Hey, everyone! Another "Simpsons" fic from me! I hope that this will be at least as successful as "The Thompsons" was. ENJOY!

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"Springfield. It's quite an interestingly common name here in America.

There's quite a lot of Springfields spanning across the country. Think of it. There are thirty-four populated Springfields lying in twenty-five American states, five of them in Wisconsin. There's also thirty-six Springfield Townships, eleven of them in Ohio. That makes for a total of seventy Springfields in America. Oh, Springfields, Springfields, everywhere.

How do I know this information, do you ask? Well, obviously, I was once a citizen of a Springfield myself. Ask me anything about the Springfields in America, and I'd tell you the answer in just a few seconds. I am Springfield-savvy.

The first Springfield was Springfield, Massachusetts, which was founded by William Pynchon in the year of 1636.

Springfield, Missouri, is the most populous Springfield, home to nearly 160,000 people.

Springfield, Illinois, is the only Springfield to be a U.S. state capital.

There's a total of four Springfield Metropolitan Statistical Areas: Springfield, Illinois; Springfield, Massachusetts; Springfield, Missouri; Springfield, Ohio. The most populous one of the four is Springfield, Missouri, home to nearly 700,000 people.

Springfield, Springfield, Springfield, Springfield, Springfield. It's an interesting name on its own. What is it about it that attracts the guys that names cities?

You must be asking which Springfield I come from. I honestly have no clue. I haven't been there for fifteen years, and there's so much Springfields that it's hard to keep track of the very one I come from. What I do know about it was that it was my home. Home, sweet home, everyone says. To me, it's now home, screwed home. Whether or not I'd try to find which Springfield I came from, I wouldn't want to, either way. It's now home to many bad memories.

Most of which revolve around my family.

You should've seen them. There's Bart, the most annoying troublemaker I've ever seen, but lovable when he wants to be. There's Maggie, the quietest baby I know, and that's saying something, 'cause I barely _know_ her. There's Lisa, the smartest eight-year-old imaginable, probably the child I am most proud of. And there's Marge, the most beautiful woman you can lay your eyes on, with her tall hair, as blue as the flowing oceans; her eyes, as hazel as the beautiful, beautiful sunset; and her smile, the very thing that can warm the hearts of the most foolish of souls.

They used to be my family. But now...they hate me. All because of some stupid thing I've done. And I don't ever wanna lay my eyes on them every again.

You must be wondering how I, Homer Jay Simpson, got myself in what you'd call a mess, traveling around the country, helping my only friend in selling booze. Well, I am afraid that that's a mystery you will have to solve for yourself. That moment was so stupid, so selfish, so dim-witted of me, so foolish that I don't even bother to try mentioning it through that damn sign-language.

I can tell you of what happened afterwards, though. How my life turned around for the better. Maybe not the better you would expect, but adequate enough for me.

I was sitting inside my pink sedan, parked alongside a road outside of my Springfield, sobbing like a goddamn baby, pounding the steering wheel irrationally. I felt like killing myself after my family kicked me out of the house, permanently. I would've. I mean, I brought my revolver and a bunch of bullets with me, and it was sitting in the glove compartment. I brought it out and looked at it, even. I could see the reflection of a broken, empty-headed man who had his head stuck up in his own butt. I even loaded a single bullet in it and put the barrel in my mouth. I was so, so, _so_ close to Death. I was tasting the iron of the gun barrel. I was hearing my heart hammering against my rib-cage. I was feeling his cold breath on my cheek.

But it wasn't Death breathing on my cheek. It was _him_.

Henry Dobson. The brown-haired, slim, professional guy I always wanted to be, in his nice, flashy gray suit, red tie, and straw hat, standing outside of my car, smoke trailing from that damn-nice lit cigarette that was hanging from his mouth.

"Hey, what're ya doin'?!" he yells at me.

"Go away!" I yell back at him. My voice is muffled from the barrel in my mouth. "I don't wanna live anymore! I hate myself, and I don't wanna live with myself anymore!"

"Why is that so?" he asks.

I didn't tell him at first, but he kept on insisting. It was so annoying, and I had to deal with it without any interruptions, since that road was lonely, with no other cars aside from mine and Henry's. So, I told him everything after he insisted for the hundredth time.

He says, "So what? Your family can't hold you down anymore! Don't just sit there, moping around and sticking a gun into your mouth like an idiot! Live life to the fullest! That you can do now, now that you no longer have any family to hold you down!"

I wasn't expecting that kind of response. So, I respond, "But I love my family! What makes you think they hold me down?"

He asks, "What have you always wanted to be when you grow up?"

"I don't know. Travel around the country and sell booze?" Boy, it was such a stupid answer at the time. To tell you the truth, I didn't know at that time. I had nothing on my mind. It wouldn't have mattered anyway.

Anyway, Henry claps his hands together and says, "That's what I do! Hey, why don't you put down the gun and come with me? We can sell booze together! Trust me, it's a fun experience! You travel on the road 24-7, you see a lot of stuff, you get to meet hot chicks to have one-night stands with, and best of all, you'll have no wife to tell you what to do, or any children you must be responsible for!"

I knew by then that Henry had no family of his own.

He continues, "Look, what other damn choice do you have? You can die by your own hand without seeing the world, or you can go back to the family that hates you so much." He holds out his hand in a godlike fashion. "Put down the gun, come with me, and I'll give you the time of your life."

Henry was holding his hand out, as if I were a lost child and he was the adult, helping me find my way back home. But my home was gone, and I needed a new one. All of a sudden, Death wasn't looking so friendly anymore. My brain was swirling around and disintegrating like fruit being mashed up in a blender. The pressure was too much, so I broke it off by putting down the gun and taking his hand.

And that's how I met Henry. For fifteen years, we've been traveling around the country in his nice new RV, selling alcoholic beverages at every town we came across.

Though we got a modest amount of bucks from the sales, enough to buy us a nice house, Henry doesn't like houses. He says that they're like chains, keeping us from achieving a free life where you're the dictator of your own actions. Henry also doesn't like the prospect of starting a family, saying that he'd kill himself first before having a wife that told him what to do every day and a bunch of children as nonstop burden that he must be responsible for.

Once, while we were watching a couple taking care of their newborn baby at a fast-food restaurant just outside of Oklahoma City, Henry had this to say:

"Oh sure, the baby's cute and all, and it'll make you proud to be alive. But once it grows, so does the pressures of life. You will need a job to support the family, and if you're really unlucky, you will need a _bunch_ of jobs. You're gonna have to juggle between that and a child who will start demanding nonstop for toys and food and TV shows and other freakin' stuff that kids like. Worse yet, that child's gonna always wander off and you need to guide it back. And if that isn't worse, you're gonna have to deal with the spouse too. Whether it's a spouse who's irresponsible or one that's strict, you've gotta fulfill their needs too. The jobs, the children, the spouse...a family's just a crap-load of responsibilities, all crammed up together into a demanding and unmanageable sphere. What's there in a family to like if you've got all of those darn responsibilities?"

A minute later, Henry chatted up a waitress, and I spent about half of the night wandering around the RV park while he and the waitress had some fun in our RV.

I've gotta say, Henry had the most reckless of ideals, of which I disagree with. But despite our major differences, we've relied on each other. We were like brothers. I mean, I owed him one for saving me from killing myself that fateful night. Without him, I would be dead.

And thanks to him, I am a better person. In my fifteen years with Henry, I've gotten a good amount of exercise, and I am no longer the fat man I once was. I have also started regularly using Dimoxinil again, and I am no longer bald. I was also once unable to write properly, but after spending half of my time reading the local paper, I learned from what I saw.

To tell you the truth, I still haven't thanked Henry for saving me. I never seized the chance. I know I had fifteen damn years to give him my thanks, but trust me, the opportunities _always_ escaped me.

Like today. I woke up in our RV, intending to thank him, but he wasn't there, likely out on his morning jog.

While he was gone, I decided to go out and explore the city we were at right now, Chicago. It's such a nice place, very much like all of the other places I've been at. Henry was right, seeing the world was great. I wish I did it more often while I was with my family.

I missed my family. I really missed them so much. I missed Bart's annoying antics, the sound of Maggie's pacifier, Lisa's smarts, and most of all, Marge's advice and love. Oh, how I missed them all. No matter how joyfully the last fifteen years were spent, I still felt empty, a vacant space that could only be occupied by the unconditional love of my family. I could've just returned to them and apologized for that stupid, costly move I made, but they would never forgive me. That I knew. And I also knew that I failed them, and my position as a father. That, I couldn't return to.

So, like I was saying, I was wandering around the streets of Chicago, admiring the scenery. Eventually, I found myself looking up at the Sears Tower, one of the tallest buildings in the country. I felt humbled and small in the presence of such a gargantuan skyscraper. For some reason, it brought back memories of when Bart was born. I've never felt that small in that moment, just looking down at my son's fresh little eyes as they looked back up at me. Sometimes, even now I wasn't sure of whether that remembrance was supposed to be incite a good feeling or a bad feeling within my gut.

Either way, I looked down at a newspaper stand. And saw the paper that redefined my life.

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**A/N:** So, what was the paper that caught Homer's attention. Find out on the next chapter! And I'm betting you're surprised that Homer is in this situation.

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	2. Entry 2

Have you ever looked down at a newspaper stand and see someone you know on the front page?

That's what happened to me.

I look down at a random newspaper stand, having finished looking up at the mighty tall Sears Tower, and I see someone I know very much on the front page. It was so freakin' coincidental that I wonder to this day on what would've happened had I not made that glance.

You must be wondering who that person on the front page, the person that I knew, was. I still couldn't believe it, but it was my daughter, Lisa.

I haven't seen her face in fifteen years, and now that I have, I regretted missing out on her growing up. At twenty-three years old, my little Lisa had now grown into quite a beautiful woman. Those starfish-like locks of hers were now curved back, and she now had these curves that would've looked really appealing to Henry. The smile she had on her face in that photo, it looked very much like Marge's. Sweet, caring, and heartwarming. It had potential to melt even the coldest of hearts.

I instantly grab the newspaper, pay it with my money, and start reading it, walking around the streets of Chicago aimlessly, not watching where I am going.

Hell, I sure missed out on what happened to my dear Lisa. She had gone and graduated from Yale University and gained a reputation for her participation in protests for a variety of controversial subjects. Ah, that's my Lisa, all right. Smart and determined to fight for a cause. Oh, and she had just started a business specializing in civil rights and the protection of wildlife. I am so proud of her. She is what she wanted to be, a businesswoman in the world of Good Samaritans.

I look at the next paragraph, which catches my attention. It says she is getting married. In fact, the guy is standing beside Lisa right now. He has this toothy, cheesy grin, neat hair, and he is wearing this flashy-looking, dark-colored business suit. According to the newspaper, he's the son of the owner of, guess what, the newspaper I am reading right now. Wow. What are the odds?

Looking at Lisa's smiling face, she looked very happy with that guy. I smile proudly. I was happy that she was happy. I continued down the Chicago street, reading the newspaper. As I did, I noticed that some people were drinking bottles of alcohol. I recognize the brand anywhere. Henry had sold some booze without me, I realized, so I hurried back to the RV.

It doesn't take me long to find the RV park where Henry and I were staking out. I open the door and find none other than Henry sitting on the sofa, legs crossed.

"Where have you been?" he asks.

"I thought I'd take a walk, since you were out on your jog," I reply coolly.

"I wasn't out on my jog."

"Where the hell were you, then?"

"Buying food." He nods his head at the bag of McDonald's lying on the nearby table. "It took me fifteen minutes. I come back here and you're gone."

"Well, like I said, I thought I'd take a walk."

Henry sighed, shrugged, and stood up, brushing crumbs off of his clothes. "Okay. But FYI, I had to go sell some booze through the Chicago streets. We made half of the minimum bucks we usually get. So before you go out somewhere, please give me a call next time, give me a heads-up, alright?"

"Alright, sorry," I say. Henry never likes it when he sells booze without me, for he says that I helped give a boost to his sales, something that I agree to. "So, where's the next place we're going to, Henry?"

"Springfield."

My heart skips a beat.

"Which one?" I ask, a bit of hope suddenly shooting up my spine like electricity.

"The one in-" Henry stops suddenly, seeing the newspaper I am still holding in my hand. "Wait a minute, what's that?"

"Oh, this? Newspaper. Nothing wrong with reading the papers, is there?"

"No, nothing wrong, except..." Henry snatches the newspaper from my hand and reads the front page. "Gas prices are at an all-time high. What a bummer."

In my mind, I was sighing with utmost relief. If Henry saw Lisa on the paper, he'd most likely rant on about how family absorbs all of the masculinity out of a man. I told him every single detail about my family, so he would know what Lisa would look like, and what she likes and hates. And, of course, I didn't appreciate how badly he viewed the concept of a family. He may be my only friend, but we had differing views on particular subjects.

Just then, his eyes narrow. "And I see a photo of what appears to be Lisa Simpson." He looks at me suspiciously. "Says here she's getting married to some rich guy. You're not planning to attend that wedding, are you?"

"No, of course not!" I exclaim. "My family would kill me if they see me again!"

"Good." He crumples up the newspaper and throws it on the sofa. Henry was never the tidy person. "Keep that in mind, buddy." Suddenly, his watch starts beeping, and Henry examines it. "Ah, it's almost noon. Time to skedaddle from this dump." He hops on over to the driver's seat and buckles his seat-belt. "We're on the move, Homer! _Sayonara_, Chicago!" He starts the RV with style, like he always does. "YEE-HAW!"

I went over to the passenger seat and watched as Henry pulled the RV out of the RV park and into the Chicago streets. Within an hour, we entered the highway that takes us from the business area into the suburbs. As we passed several neighborhoods, memories of Evergreen Terrace creep back into my mind. Memories of a poorer yet more happier me, enjoying the company of my wife and children, no matter what their flaws were.

I began to wonder what had happened to my family in the past fifteen years. I knew what happened to Lisa now, but I wondered about Marge, Bart, and Maggie. I hoped that Bart became a success in life and was probably already a father. Maggie would be a teenager by this point; she'd probably be very popular in school and pursuing whatever goals she had. And Marge...I began to imagine her with another husband. Moe, Lenny, Flanders...the possibilities were endless. But Marge would be happier with her new husband. It didn't matter who the new lucky guy was; he was most likely incapable of pulling off that stupid stint I did.

I sigh sadly as the suburban neighborhoods disappear. Lately, it had been hard for me to enjoy my new life with Henry, harder than usual. I began to being picked on by Bart, hearing Maggie's sucking of her pacifier, Lisa's smart-talk, and most of all, Marge's wisdom, and the fact that I'd see her every morning.

I miss my family, so much.

Those thoughts were on my mind as we traveled down Illinois, passing numerous areas. It was a sunny day with a few clouds in the sky, giving the areas we were in an equal amount of brilliance in their views. But the lovely views didn't alleviate my blues.

The feelings didn't pass the moment we reached Springfield, Illinois, the very Springfield that Henry intended to reach. We sold a decent amount of booze, got an amount of bucks that exceeded our minimum limit, and stopped over at an RV park, where we spent the rest of the day watching TV and eating food we bought from supermarkets and fast-food restaurants. The following night, I didn't sleep. I would usually hear Henry snoring loudly, much like my snoring, but this time, he wasn't, so it allowed me to delve into my thoughts more easier.

I continued to think about my family, and I began to fantasize their reaction of me visiting them.

"Why're _you_ here, Dad?" Bart would say accusingly.

"Get outta here!" Lisa would yell. "We don't want you in our lives anymore!"

"I was never able to talk because of you!" Maggie would shriek. "Go away, before I won't be able to talk again!"

"HOMER, I WILL **NEVER** FORGIVE YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID! LEAVE!" Marge would screech at me.

"But Marge, kids-" I would begin, but I would never have the chance to speak.

"**GET OUT!**" they would all say.

Yep, it would be a nasty scene. Nasty indeed.

But Lisa was getting married. She would probably deserve to see her father at the wedding, maybe even walked down the aisle by me...

I suddenly sat up on my bed and looked cautiously at Henry, who was still sleeping. I quietly got out of bed, crept out of the RV, and looked up at the stars. The stars blinked back at me, and for some reason, I was imagining Marge's eyes staring back at me from the starry sky. I remembered all of the moments I promised Marge that we'd be together forever, and vice-versa. Now, those statements are invalid, and I can't do anything about it.

I then wondered if Marge was staring at the nighttime sky as well, and imagining my eyes staring at her from the sky.

That was when I suddenly decided, in an abrupt burst of emotion, that I'd decide to pay my family a visit. It didn't matter how, or what the costs were; I was gonna go to Springfield and visit them.

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**A/N:** So, how does Homer plan on getting back to Springfield without Henry holding him back? You'll see in the next chapter!

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

**_damonika2009 [You'll find out soon!]_**

**_LittleGreenPen_**

**_Comicbookguy666 [Whoa, you actually fooled me there!]_**

**_Narfy_**

**_GirlWednesday_**

**_Pudgemounain [I will!]_**

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	3. Entry 3

**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait; I was busy with life. But now, I have enough time to make a quick update. ENJOY!

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You must be wondering, how was I gonna get to Springfield without Henry holding me back? Well, like any other person running away, I just sneaked away carefully and stealthily. Well, after leaving a note for Henry, that is. I thought it'd be unfair for him to wake up and find that I was gone.

So yeah, I managed to get out of our RV, tiptoed out of the RV park, and then burst into an all-out run. Fifteen years ago, I'd barely make a yard without having to stop and catch my breath. But now that I have started exercising, I was able to cover a couple of miles away from the RV park before I finally stopped, and not just to catch my breath, but to start formulating the travel plan that I had failed to work on earlier.

I was at Springfield, Illinois. It was not the Springfield I once lived in. That I knew. The problem was that I didn't know _which_ Springfield I came from. I was lost, and I had sixty-nine other Springfields to choose from. Yep, a sea of options. Well, looks like I'm gonna have to guess!

So, I began my journey. I kept hopping onto passenger trains, paying what I could.

I first tried Springfield, Indiana. Nothing.

Next was the one in Ohio. Nothing.

I then tried the one in Pennsylvania. Nothing.

I tried the one in West Virginia. Nothing.

I tried Tennessee. Nothing

I tried Georgia. Nothing.

I tried Florida. Nothing.

I tried Alabama. It was more of a location.

Louisiana. Nothing.

Arkansas. Nothing.

Missouri. Nothing.

To my surprise, I was back at Springfield, Illinois. I've already crossed that one out.

I went to Nebraska. Nothing.

Colorado. Nothing.

Idaho. Nothing.

Oregon. Nothing.

California. Nothing.

Texas. Nothing.

Suddenly, I'm back at Springfield, Illinois. I don't know what guided me there. I just took a bunch of randomly-chosen trains, and here I was, Springfield, Illinois. It's not the Springfield I was looking for, if you must know. There's no one I know there. No Lenny and Carl, no Barney, no Moe, no Apu, no Mr. Burns and Smithers and power plant, and especially no Marge and kids.

I went to Minnesota. Nothing.

I went to Michigan. Nothing.

I went to New York. Nothing.

Then, I'm back at Springfield, Illinois. Once again. Through a number of randomly-chosen trains. Why do I keep coming back here?

I try Kentucky. Nothing.

All of a sudden, I'm back at Springfield, Illinois. I decide to give up and go back to the RV park. Oh, what a fool I was! Now my mind was scrambling to think of a logical explanation to give to Henry. He would've been really pissed off at me.

I go back to the RV park. The RV's not there. _He's_ not there.

I was distraught. I honestly didn't know what to do. I just decided to wander the streets, alone. It was during the afternoon hours, so the streets were alive with cars and pedestrians. But I wished it was nighttime. For some odd reason, I felt as if everyone was looking at me, giving me hateful stares that made me feel unwanted. I think my mind was going, really. I felt paranoid. I wanted to hide.

I randomly decide to go into a café. For some reason, I felt safe in there. People were just chatting with each other and eating and drinking, not minding me. I let out a really heavy sigh and lean back against a wall, sweating like I had just run a triathlon.

After a couple of minutes, I decide to go into the men's bathroom. After answering nature's call, I wash my hands and look at my reflection in a slightly dirty mirror. Boy, did I look like hell or what? My eyes were sunken and bloodshot, I haven't shaved in some time, my clothes were shabby, and my hair was all unkempt. I looked just like my half-brother Herb Powell when he hit rock-bottom. I guess I barely slept during my cross-country travels.

I go outside of the bathroom and sit at an empty table to watch the sun shining in the blue sky. There wasn't a single cloud to block its beauty. It was a magnificent sight. Sometimes, I really wish people would just sit back and look up at the sky, forget all about their troubles and lose them in the beauty. I've been so caught up in my worries that when I looked up at the marvelous sky, I felt baptized.

The last couple of sentences were kinda taken from lil' Lisa, save for the whole baptizing part, as she's a Buddhist. Boy, was she right.

"Excuse me, mister?"

I look down and see the most adorable five-year-old girl, with blonde hair and holding a teddy bear, looking up at me.

"I can't find my daddy. Can you help me?"

I smiled and let out a little laugh. "Young miss," I reply, "didn't your dad ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"

"Yes, but you don't seem strange enough to me. Can you help me, please?"

I didn't want to give the wrong message to the other people in the café, but there was something about the girl's eyes that made it impossible to turn her down. I just smile and reply, "Okay, I'll help you."

The girl smiles really widely at me, takes my hand, and guides me out of the café. I really don't know what her problem is. Shouldn't she be not trusting strangers? Whatever happened to stranger danger? That girl seems to trust me though. Although I don't know her at all...

"So, where'd you lose your daddy, little miss?" I ask.

"Here, mister," she says, pointing at a sidewalk that was opposite of the café. "He was talking on his cell phone and I was talking to Mr. Bear here." She holds up her teddy bear. Aw, how cute. "I look up and my daddy's gone."

"Well, if you stayed here, then surely your daddy will come back to get you."

"Oh." Obviously, the girl never thought of it before. Well, who can blame her? She's five years old! "Okay."

"I'll stay with you if you want."

She smiles again. "Okay! Hey, while we wait, maybe we can play with Mr. Bear!"

Really, who can resist such a five-year-old?

"Okay."

"YAY!"

So, for the next ten minutes, we started playing with Mr. Bear underneath the shade of a tree. Apparently, Mr. Bear likes tea, unicorns, and blonde people, and hates cooked spinach, thunderstorms, and cooties. I also learn that the girl's name is Lenore. Fancy name. It sounds as if her parents were rich or something.

As I play with Lenore and Mr. Bear, I take a glance at the sidewalk. It is at this point that I noticed a statue for the first time. That was weird; I never saw that statue there before. But I guess I wasn't paying too much attention...

"Lenore!" a voice calls out.

Lenore gasps and her eyes widen. "DADDY!" she cries back. The girl runs over to hug her father, who is in a nice brown business suit.

"Oh, Lenore, I thought I lost you! Don't EVER let go of my hand again!"

"Sorry, Daddy."

The father sighs and says, "It's okay; at least I found you."

Lenore looks up at me and says, "Thanks for watching me till my daddy found me!"

"No problem, Lenore," I say back.

The father looks at me and extends his hand, obviously beckoning for a handshake. "Thanks for watching my little girl, mister," he says.

It's my turn to widen my eyes. I cannot believe who I am seeing standing before me. There's no mistaking that spiky hair anywhere.

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**A/N:** So, who do you think is Lenore's father? I guess the answer's easy to guess, but still.

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

**GirlWednesday:** You'll find out about how Homer interacts with the family, and the background behind Henry.

**damonika2009:** You'll see what happens when he returns to Springfield.

**Comicbookguy666**

**Narfy:** Hm, I'm not really sure about the child support thing. I'll work on how to explain it in further chapters.

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	4. Entry 4

I couldn't believe who I was seeing before me. Bartholomew JoJo Simpson, my little rascal, all grown up.

I honestly thought he'd grow up to be a broke-ass, unsuccessful failure, but boy, was I wrong! His spiky hair had grown longer and combed down neatly, just like it was whenever he went to a formal occasion. Like I said before, he was wearing a nice brown business suit. And I didn't even think he'd be responsible enough to raise a child of his own. I HONESTLY couldn't really believe it was him at first sight.

To my utmost relief, Bart didn't seem to recognize me. After all, I had more hair and less weight, so I wasn't the fat, bald failure of a father who raised him. He had his hand extended for a handshake, and he was flashing a kind smile at me. Even that mischievous smile's gone.

"You're welcome, B- eh, mister," I say, shaking my son's hand. "Wait, she's your child?"

"Of course, sir," Bart replies. "A marvelous little angel, isn't she?"

"Daddy!" exclaimed Lenore, blushing and looking obviously embarrassed.

"What? It's true, Lenore."

"Well, I gotta, uh, get going," I say, preparing to leave. "I'm glad I could watch your little girl while you were absent."

"No, don't go!" Lenore exclaims. "Daddy, can we keep him?" Aw, how cute.

"Why, Lenore?" Bart asks curiously. "He's not a pet like Poppy or Mr. Bear. He's a human being."

"But he looks poor. No offense, mister, but you kinda smell and your clothes are all messed up." Yeah, that was true. I had been really untidy of myself during my little vacation through multiple Springfields. "Again, no offense." What a sweet child. I just nod at her with understanding.

"I don't think so, Lenore. Your mom won't like that."

"But didn't you say we have to help people who are in need?" Is this _really_ Bart? "Isn't that what you said, Daddy?"

"Yeah."

"He's in need, Daddy! He's poor." She looks at me. "Aren't you, mister?"

I technically wasn't poor, but I wanted to find a way to get into my family without them even noticing. I found this to be a great opportunity, so I nodded.

"Yeah," I say, making my voice sound raspier than usual, "I've spent the last seven years sleeping in alleyways and dumpsters. Not a good way to live. I'm in real need of a proper home. I agree with the young lady, mister, I'd like to stay with you. At least for a little while. Please sir, I'll do anything! Wash your dishes! Clean up your beds! Anything! I just want a bed to sleep on and actual food to eat in exchange."

Bart looks at me suspiciously and asks, "How exactly can I trust you, mister?"

"Please..." I say, putting my hands together in a begging position. "I just wanna get back on my knees, and then I'll leave. There'll be no trouble."

Bart still wore a suspicious mask, but then he looked down at Lenore, who was also looking up at him with a pleading look.

I am pretty sure Bart would've turned down the plea if he were dealing with someone other than me. But I just _know_ that when he looked into my eyes again, he saw something, an aura of trust that was residing inside me. He really would've turned down anyone else's offers. He really would've. It sometimes puzzles me to this day when he said the magic words.

"Alright, mister, you can stay at my home. But only until my wife and I figure out what to do with you!"

"YAY!" Lenore exclaims.

"Oh, thank you _so much_, sir!" I take his hand and shake it again. "You have no idea how much this means to me!" He really has _no_ idea.

Bart just returns the handshake with a kind smile and says jokingly, "My wife will never forgive me for this, but I only did this because Lenore was giving me the look."

"What look?" Lenore asks.

For the next few minutes, Bart and Lenore walk me to their car, a white SUV that looked like something only rich families own. As I get on it, I decided to confirm my suspicions by asking Bart a simple question.

"By the way, mister, what's your name?"

I expected the answer he gave me. "It's Bartholomew, but you can call me Bart if you'd like." It was now his turn to ask the question. "What's your name?"

I spoke the first name that came to my mind. "Henry Dobson."

* * *

Bart made a few stops before he took me to his home. First he went to a bakery to purchase some foods for none other than Lisa's wedding, then to an ice-cream store to buy some of the tasty treats for himself, Lenore, and me. Finally, he made a stop to a clothing store to buy some clothes for me. I decided to wear a gray-and-white T-shirt with the sign 'I LOVE SPRINGFIELD' with a heart insignia in place of the 'love' word, blue jeans, and a silver-and-black cap of Springfield's football team, the Springfield Atoms. The clothes looked quite tacky on me, much better than the grimy clothing I wore during my days selling booze with Henry.

"I like your clothes, Henry," Lenore says to me as Bart drives down a street that went into a rich neighborhood.

"Thanks, Lenore," I reply. I then look at Bart and decide to enlighten myself again. "So, uh, _Bart_-" I put some emphasis on the name to emulate confusion. "-how exactly did you get rich anyway?"

"What're you talking about?" Bart asks.

"I mean, you have a nice car, you seem to live in a nice neighborhood, and your little girl obviously loves you to death. You run a business or something?"

"No, that's my wife. I work as an architect." Whoa, architect. The last time I saw Bart, he couldn't even memorize multiplication. "Believe it or not, I started out like any other person, living in the suburbs with a nice family." He paused for a bit, and I knew exactly why. "Well, _mostly_ nice." I flinched at that, but fortunately, no one noticed. "My dad did something unforgivable, and we kicked him out. Things didn't go smoothly at first, because his job was what kept our family going, but my mom got a job at a bakery (not the same bakery we went to) and we got better."

I decided to ask another question. "Anything else about your mom? Did she remarry or something?"

"Nope." In my head, I was sighing with relief. "She felt that our dad had been the one for her, and that despite what he did, she was still committed to him."

"What'd he do?" I ask. I know what I actually did, but I needed to look innocent.

"Well, it's something only for _adults_." Lenore instantly covers her ears. "Okay, so my dad goes to BLAH BLAH after BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH and he BLAH BLAH BLAH. And then there was BLAH BLAH there and he BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH and all. The BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH and BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH and BLAH BLAH BLAH. Quite conveniently, my mom was going over there and saw the whole thing. And the rest is history."_  
_

Had I not been more composed of myself, I would've burst into tears right there. But I was able to hold them back and just reply, "Oh. That's...that was, uh, quite _low_ of him to do. Can't believe he did that."

"Oh, he did it all right. I still don't forgive him for what he did." I gulped quietly. "If I saw that bastard right now, I'd start strangling him like he strangled me." Again, I gulped, a bit louder this time. Fortunately, Bart was too caught up in his anger and his driving to notice.

Just then...

"Daddy, what is a bastard?"

The next few minutes were very, VERY awkward.

* * *

Bart pulled his SUV over in the driveway of his home, an astounding three-story mansion with a nice small garden at the front. There was a sports car also in the driveway and a motorcycle parked alongside the opposite sidewalk. It was indeed a nice house. We get out and I help Bart with the food he bought for Lisa's wedding. In the meantime, Lenore was running up to the front door, which just opened to reveal a brown-haired woman with a slim figure and wearing a light-green dress and a hairband of the same color. She was most likely Bart's wife. I instantly notice the large, prominent lump on her stomach.

"Mommy!" Yep, my suspicions were correct.

"Hi, sweetie!" the mother says, hugging Lenore. She then spots Bart and me. "Hi, Bart. I got your text message." She approached me and shook my hand. "Hello, Henry, nice to meet you. Thank you for watching Lenore while Bart _lost her_-" She shoots a stern look at Bart, who raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"Don't blame me, Dani!" he exclaims. "We were in a crowd, and I let go of her hand! It's kinda hard to keep track of one another in a crowd!"

"Well, at least you got my little bumblebee back." She kisses Bart on the cheek, and I suddenly felt a brief surge of jealousy. Marge never forgave ME for losing the kids! But I knew better than to act out.

"Um, hello?" I ask jokingly. "I'm still here, you know."

"Of course," Dani says, beckoning towards the house. "Here, come on in, Henry. You can stay in the guestroom until my husband and I figure out what to do with you."

I nod and go into the house, still carrying some of the boxes of food. Upon entering, I felt like I was in heaven. It was just like a mansion from the movies, with a double-set of spiraling staircases greeting me at the front door. I continued into the kitchen, which was quite large. My eyes widened upon seeing a man and a woman, both dressed in black-and-white clothing, working there as I set down the boxes on a counter. Man, Bart has a butler and a maid? I really couldn't believe it.

"Henry! Henry! Hey, Henry!" Lenore comes up to me, holding Mr. Bear and followed by a little white-colored dog with a cute pink bow on its head. "This is Poppy, my dog! Say hello to Henry, Poppy! Say hello!"

Poppy barks at me in a friendly way, and it suddenly reminded me of Santa's Little Helper, the pet greyhound that was around when I was; I can only assume he is dead at this point. Once again, I felt an emotional surge, this time one of sadness. Even though I was now back with my son, and practically the rest of my family, I still missed the good ol' days. And after all, Bart didn't even know it was ME. To him, I was Henry Dobson, my family-hating friend.

"Come on, Henry!" Lenore cries, taking my hand and pulling me out of my trance. "I'll show you around the house!"

For the next several minutes, I was introduced to the rest of Bart's house. There was the master bedroom, which was large enough to house almost an entire set of exercising equipment, and there was also a large bathtub and a separate shower. There was Lenore's bedroom, which was smaller and was full of toys and books; quite expectantly, it was also colored in shades of pink. There was another room, which I noticed only held a crib and some toys. The third floor was a dual cellar-panic room, the latter function of which was for armed intruders, with a large container apparently full of guns, which Lenore calls 'big scary sticks that make a lot of loud noises', how cute. And there was the guestroom, which was for me; it looked comfortable, with a nice bed and a sofa. I was also introduced to Bart's butler and maid, Hilbert and Agatha.

The lucky bastard...

* * *

Several hours have passed, and it was almost sundown. I was eating and talking with Bart, Lenore, Dani, Hilbert, and Agatha when the doorbell rang.

"I'll answer that," Agatha says in that cheesy yet entertaining British voice of hers. She walks off and out of the kitchen. I then hear the front door open and then Agatha's voice saying, "Ah, Lisa, Paul, how good of you to join us! We're having Indian food right now."

* * *

**A/N:** First is Bart, and now it's Lisa. What do you think will happen?

I'd like to thank the following who reviewed:

**LittleGreenPen:** Yes, yes it is him.

**Comicbookguy666:** I'm glad you like the listing of Springfields. It's actually a bit important to the story! How, I won't say.

**Sideshow Cellophane 26:** It's okay if you haven't reviewed lately. I understand. And it's Springfield, Connecticut, that's THE Springfield? I'm not sure about that. But you will actually learn more about Springfield's location in later chapters. Oh, and in response to your question: I have FAILED! XD

**GirlWednesday:** Yes, Lenore was in that Halloween special. I am now aware of that, thank you very much. And Henry will come back soon, I assure you.

**Narfy:** Ew? Did you misspell that or something? Oh well, thanks for your review, it was great and encouraging!

**Pudgemounain:** You'll learn more about Lenore's birth, I promise you.

**Nathan Drake Outlaw:** YES!

**damonika2009:** Indeed it did! XD Thanks for the review!

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	5. Entry 5

**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait, everyone! I was busy with my "Phineas and Ferb" stories. And I don't care what you say, Narfy, I feel that a week away from "Simpsons" stories is too long for me. That's right!

Well, enough chitchat. ENJOY!

* * *

Lisa? Oh, crap...

I instantly decide to look away and focus myself on my food while everyone else stands up to greet my daughter. Bart may not recognize me, but Lisa was the smartest person I knew and my cover probably won't be as lucky with her.

"Aunt Lisa!" Lenore cries. "Aunt Lisa! Hi!"

"Hi, Lenore!" I can hear Lisa say. "How's my favorite niece doing?"

"But I'm your only niece, Aunt Lisa!"

"Well, you won't be the only niece for long. Hey, Bart."

"Lisa," Bart greets. "Hey, Paul."

"Bart, a pleasure, as always." This voice obviously belonged to Paul. For some reason, he sounded a bit snobby, something that seemed to strike a chord of discomfort, but I knew better than to act out on it. I just continued to hear in on the conversation.

"So, did you find out the gender of the baby, guys?" Lisa asks.

"They're saying it's a girl, but that's just a preliminary conclusion," replies Dani.

"YAY! I'm gonna have a sister!" says Lenore, and I can hear her hopping up and down with excitement. "I can't wait to be a big sister!"

"Well, you're gonna have to wait, Lenore, honey," Bart replies. "Oh, by the way, Lis, Paul, we had to take in a homeless guy. His name's Henry Dobson. A nice fella, he even watched Lenore when I accidentally lost her downtown. Please be nice to him. He had nowhere else to go."

"Oh, okay," Lisa replies.

Just then, I hear footsteps coming into the kitchen, followed by Bart saying, "Henry, I'd like you to meet my sister, Lisa, and her fiance Paul."

I had no choice but to turn around and face my daughter, whom I had never seen in fifteen years. Seeing her in the newspaper was half of the experience. A personal encounter was more..._something_. Her beauty, quite amazing even in the newspaper, was amplified up-close, and the smile that she was giving me made me weak in the knees. It reminds me SO MUCH of Marge's smile. My effing God, I must have been away from my family for WAY too long. Otherwise, I wouldn't be seeing my own daughter's smile as beautiful in a sexy way...

I struggle to compose myself as I say in a simple tone, "Hey."

"Hi." All of a sudden, Lisa's smile disappears. I feel myself breaking out in a sweat. Thoughts of fear of whether she recognized me or not were bouncing around the corners of my brain like ping-pong balls. It wouldn't be long till she confronts me about the truth, right here, right now...

"Why are you blushing?"

My eyes widen. "Excuse me?" I ask.

"I said, why are you blushing?" Lisa asks.

PHEW!

"Oh. It's probably warm here or something."

"The air-conditioner's not even on," Bart replies.

"Well, maybe I've been out in the cold so much I've become used to it. Sorry."

I resume eating my dinner, consuming it a bit more frantically. For some reason, my stomach embraces the food with so much savory grace. A few minutes pass by, and all of a sudden, I find myself munching down the food with such ferocity, like a ravenous predator eating its prey. Once I am finished, I look up at my acquaintances, who are all looking at me with shocked expressions. I apparently had been doing this for quite a while.

"What?" I ask.

"Sorry," Lisa replies. "It's just...the way you eat _really_ reminds me of my dad..."

Crap. I'm selling myself out!

"Purely coincidental, it must be," I say quickly, wiping my lips with a napkin.

Lisa doesn't look convinced, but she resumes her conversation with Bart and Dani.

"So, did you buy the food for the wedding, Bart?"

"Yep. It's all in the fridge."

"And the dress, Dani?"

Dani smiles excitedly. "Up in the bedroom. Wanna try it on?"

Lisa squeals. "You bet!" She and Dani get out of their chairs and race to the stairs as fast as they could.

"Daddy, why do people like to get married?" Lenore suddenly asks.

"Why, Lenore?" Bart replies. "Do _you_ wanna get married when you grow up?"

"No. It's all just about signing a cootie contract for life. Wanda says so herself."

"Must you believe _everything_ that girl says, Lenore?"

"Wanda knows a lot about stuff."

Bart smiles mischievously, a smile that stirs memories within my brain. "Well, if it weren't for your mom and I marrying, you wouldn't be here. We wouldn't have asked the stork to deliver us to you, and you probably would've been with another family."

"I don't care." Lenore said that with a lot of childish defiance that was so cute. "I'm not gonna marry a boy. I can just ask a stork to deliver a baby to me."

"Storks can only deliver to two parents, Lenore, not one."

"I can marry a girl, then! That doesn't count as cooties since it's supposed to be between a boy and a girl!"

I struggled to stifle a laugh at that remark, as did Paul, Hilbert, and Agatha. Though the look on Bart's face stood rock-solid, it looked as if he was also gonna explode in uncontrollable laughter at any second. He says, "Oh, I am pretty sure that you will marry a boy someday. Maybe Hugh, he's a good candidate-"

"Daddy, Hugh is the weirdest kid in school!" Lenore shouts. "He likes playing with bugs, he keeps making snow angels even though there's no snow, he keeps dancing in the rain, and most of all, he likes to watch and follow me a lot during class and lunchtime! It's very creepy!"

"Maybe he likes you..." Bart winks at her.

"HE DOESN'T LIKE ME, DADDY!" screams Lenore, blushing furiously. "HE'S JUST WEIRD! I DON'T LIKE HIM! I WILL **NEVER** MARRY HIM!"

"Sure you will..."

"I MEAN IT, DADDY!"

"Alright, Miss Lenore, let's not overreact," Hilbert says. "Let's just eat our dinner."

Lenore pouts, but she eats her food anyway. Meanwhile, Paul looks at me, his snobby smile in place. "So Henry, Bart says you're homeless," he says, taunting me with his smile. I _really_ don't seem to like him, let alone approve of his marriage with Lisa. I seriously don't. "What happened to you? Did the economy hit you or something?"

"Paul!" Bart chides defensively, but I hold up a hand.

"It's okay, Bart," I reply. Though I didn't like Paul, I felt I should enlighten him. I've never really expanded my lie on being poor, so I needed a fallacious background in order to maintain it. "Well, yeah. The economy did hit me hard, like you say it. I lost my job and then my house seven years ago. I've been living on the street since."

"What kind of job did you have?"

"I worked at a nuclear power plant." I mentally slapped myself in the head upon saying that.

"Really?" Bart asks. "My dad once worked at the old nuclear power plant here. Until BLAH BLAH BLAH and then BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH after BLAH BLAH."

Paul shook his head disapprovingly. He then pressed on, "Did you have a family, Henry?"

I could've said no. Guess what I said.

"What happened to them?"

"Well, they technically didn't lose the house, so that's why I am all alone." Oh, what the hell am I saying?

"How come you're not with them, then? They should be probably supporting you if you lost your job."

I didn't know what to say anymore. Every time I try to throw a lie, I suddenly tell the truth, for no reason or intention whatsoever. I look at Bart, and he's wearing a suspicious look on his face. I couldn't take it anymore, lying to him and Lisa like that. I suddenly break down in tears.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I sob hysterically. "I'm so sorry for what I did, Bart! Forgive me, please!"

"Forgive you for what?" he asks.

"Don't deny it! You know who I am! You know it, you know it!" I began crying hysterically, and I collapse to the floor, clutching my head in agony as if it suffered a blow. Just then, my world became black...

* * *

I opened my eyes and found myself in the guestroom. The morning sunlight was creeping through the window. I stand up from my bed and find myself only clothed in my underwear shorts. So, I got myself properly dressed in the bathroom.

As I exit the bathroom, I suddenly notice sheets of paper lying on the floor in front of me. Scrawled all around them were dates that I never recognized. I cleaned up the floor, organized the sheets by date, and set them down on a nearby table.

I then try to exit the room, but once I open the door, I find Hilbert there, and he suddenly restrains me.

"Hey, what're you doing?!" I scream.

"Sorry, sir," he says, "but this is for your own good, as well as the good of others!"

"What the hell are ya talking about? Let me go!"

"I _mustn't_, sir! I'm following orders!"

"Whose orders?" I ask furiously.

"Mine."

I see Bart standing in the hallway. Behind him is Paul, no longer smiling.

* * *

"What the hell's going on, Bart?" I ask in a demanding tone.

Bart and Paul look at one another.

"Is it okay?" Paul asks.

"I think he's out of it," replies Bart.

"Out of what?" I ask. "Out of _what_, Bart?"

Bart looks at me and explains, "Well, Paul was asking you how you became poor. You said you lost your job and your house, although your family still had the latter. When Paul asked you why your family couldn't support you, you started crying, and then you fell to the floor all of a sudden.

"When Paul and I came up to you to help you, you suddenly started rambling about things I really couldn't follow. You also seemed to be jumping from happiness to anger to sadness and then back. We tried to get you to a sofa, and that was when you started thrashing about. It became so bad that Hilbert and Agatha had to take Lenore out of the room. You were doing this for several minutes, until you blacked out just as suddenly as you fell to the floor."

"I did all of _that_?" I ask, shocked.

"Yeah," Bart replies. "Don't you remember any of it?"

I was silent for a moment, and then I reply without any reluctance, "...No."

* * *

Following the conversation, I was allowed to roam the house again with Bart's permission, as long as I was under the watchful eyes of Hilbert and Agatha. Fortunately for me, Lisa remained with her fiance in Bart's house, still consulting with Dani on how to prepare for the wedding.

Just after noon, I saw Lisa come into the kitchen while I was eating some donuts. Hey, just because I cut back on unhealthy foods doesn't mean I never ate them.

"Hey, Lisa," I greeted.

"Oh, hey Henry," Lisa says. "Bart told me about your little...breakdown. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? Who knows what I could've done? And Lenore was in the house."

"Speaking from my viewpoint, I think you're suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder," she explains. "I think your breakdown was your PTSD acting up. And I think I know why you have PTSD in the first place."

I instantly caught on. She thinks my family isn't around because they died somehow. Finding more opportunities with that excuse, I decided to go along with it.

"Yeah. It was a house fire." I pretend to sniffle sadly.

"I'm really sorry, Henry," Lisa says.

"Thanks. Well, enough of me. Let's get onto a better topic. Lisa, how'd you meet the oh-so-lucky Paul?"

Lisa smiled fondly at the memory. "We met at Yale University, where we attended. At first, we were the worst of enemies. But then, I remember us fighting hard over the ownership of a new library book. We threw insults back and forth, and all of a sudden, things just clicked into place. We dated since then."

I suddenly frown, remembering my disapproval of Paul. "Is there, perhaps, anything you _don't_ like about Paul?" I ask.

"No." She then raises an eyebrow suspiciously. "Why?"

"I don't know. There's something about his smile that bothers me-"

"Henry, I know he looks rather conceited and arrogant, but that's just the physical traits he inherited from his father; _he_ is the one who's up his own ass, and even Paul admits that himself. But Paul is, at heart, a generous, caring, kind person. His gives a large amount of money to charities and fundraisers, and he respects the differences we have between one another. For example, I'm a Buddhist, he's a Catholic. But despite that, he completely respects my religious views and never speaks out against them. But most of all, he loves me for who I am."

"I don't know, Lisa," I reply. "There's something about him I can't shake off-"

Lisa stands up angrily. "You know, you sound a lot like my mother, Henry," she says sternly.

"I'm sorry, Lisa, but I just can't seem to _approve_ of him-"

"Yeah, you _definitely_ sound like my mother. I'm outta here."

She stomps out of the kitchen angrily, and I sigh. My first attempt at re-exercising my parenting skills, a failure. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

"Henry?" another voice asks. I look down and see Lenore, holding Mr. Bear.

"Yes, Lenore?" I reply.

"I don't like Paul either. Let's team up and mess him up good!"

I smile and ruffle her hair. "Sorry, kiddo, but we don't wanna hurt your Aunt Lisa's feelings, would we?"

"I guess not." The little girl then raises an eyebrow and asks, "Henry?"

"Yes, Lenore?"

"Are you crazy?"

* * *

**A/N:** I REALLY love writing Lenore, I freakin' LOVE IT! I LOVE IT TO DEATH!

It looks like the columns of Homer's mind are not as stable as we previously see it. Whether or not it'll affect his relationship with his family is something I only know and you have yet to see. MWAHAHAHA!

Readers, do NOT fret; Marge and Maggie are appearing in the next chapter or two. YAY!

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

**damonika2009:** Yes, yes it was bad.

**Comicbookguy666**

**Narfy**

**GirlWednesday:** I guess so. And unfortunately for you, Lisa doesn't seem to recognize Homer. ...Or DOES she?

**lisa123 (guest reviewer)**

**Rosalie777:** Why, thanks. That's well-deserved praise right there. Thank you very much!

Well, hope you enjoyed this interesting chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	6. Entry 6: Dates

06-12-90

That date was the earliest date of all the dates that I apparently wrote at random on many sheets of paper during my psychotic episode. It was currently nighttime, and Lisa and the ever-snobbish Paul had left Bart's house a couple of hours earlier. I decided to examine the papers out of curiosity when everyone went upstairs to sleep.

...Well, now that I look at it, it seems as if the date _wasn't_ picked at random. I remember what happened during that date: I went shopping at the Springfield Mall with Marge, Bart, and Lisa; Bart and Lisa were five and three years old at the time. I had been particularly upset that day, since I never liked going out shopping and Bart was being a bundle of annoyance as usual. While Marge was at the bathroom with Lisa and I was left alone with Bart, I drifted off into boredom, and once Marge came back, I realized that Bart had wandered off. It took us hours to find him, and he was at a pet store, wreaking havoc. I got a real good scolding from Marge afterwards.

Why would I write down this date during a psychotic episode?

The dates after it were initially distanced from one another, with only one or two dates per year, but as the papers went along, the dates became shorter and shorter between each other, up to the point where the dates were only a couple of days away from one another. I sensed a common theme in these dates: in every date, there was an occurrence where at least one member of my family hated me for a stupid thing I did. The dates then abruptly ended on the date in which Marge divorced me after I BLAH BLAH BLAH after BLAH BLAH from the power plant.

Maybe I felt bad for all of the stuff I did, which is why I wrote these dates during my episode.

A creak suddenly fills the room, and I look up. For some reason, I felt as if someone was inside the room _with me_. But there was no one else._  
_

At first, I dismiss it. But a few minutes later, I hear someone breathing. I look up again, and again, I see no one. What's going on, I kept asking myself. Am I going crazy?

...I really should've seen this as a warning sign. But I don't. Instead, I decide to turn off the lights and go to sleep.

I spend the entire night dreaming about Marge and the rest of my family screaming accusations, and Henry telling me, "I told you so." All the while, the sky is completely occupied by all of the dates I wrote down on the papers, mostly 06-12-90.

06-12-90

For some reason, I feel as if something else happened on that day. ...But _what_?...

* * *

**A/N:** I know, short chapter is short. But guess what? It's actually important to the story, especially that magic date 06-12-90. You'll see in later chapters. Oh, and if you've been paying attention, I have changed the titles of the chapters. That was intentional, and you'll see why.

I'd like to thank those who reviewed (can't answer reviews now, sorry):

**damonika2009**

**Pudgemounain**

**GirlWednesday**

**Narfy**

**Sideshow Cellophane 26**

**Sweet20s12**

Well, hope you enjoyed this short chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	7. entry 7

The next morning, I woke up, reeling from a strange dream I had during my sleep. I was walking down an oddly familiar sidewalk during the nighttime, and the moon was a waxing crescent. I eventually came up to a house, which I had spent innumerable hours examining silently, without making a movement. For some reason, the house looked rather familiar, but the surreal feelings of it all blocked my memories. The dream ended when I just walked away without saying a word.

When I took a glance at my nightstand, I saw a paper with crude, scratchy handwriting on it. My curiosity peaked and I took it, reading it. It was a note.

* * *

06-12-90

THE DAY YOU MET ME

I KNOW WHO YOU ARE, HOMER

YOU THINK YOU KNOW YOURSELF

**YOU'RE WRONG**

YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE COME BACK

YOU SHOULD LEAVE WHEN YOU HAVE THE CHANCE

THEY WILL NEVER ACCEPT YOU AGAIN

NOT BART

NOT LISA

NOT MAGGIE

NOT MARGE

YOU'RE LUCKY THEY DON'T RECOGNIZE YOU

BUT YOU SHOULD LEAVE

YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT

I'LL SEE YOU SOON

06-12-90

* * *

I didn't know who wrote this; the handwriting was so unfamiliar, definitely not any other handwriting I knew.

But I knew one thing: I should leave.

* * *

**A/N:** Another tremendously short chapter, I know. But trust me, the material's important. And notice that the title of the chapter is different, which is intentional.

I'd like to thank those who reviewed (can't answer reviews, sorry):

**Sweet20s12**

**damonika2009**

**GirlWednesday**

**Narfy**

**Sideshow Cellophane 26**

**Comicbookguy666**

Well, hope you enjoyed this short chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	8. Entry 8

I decided to make my move at nighttime in order to avoid detection, plus to spend my last day with the family that I knew to the fullest. First, I went out with Bart to shop for more materials for Lisa's wedding during the morning. Then, on noontime, I spent some time playing with Lenore, Mr. Bear, and Poppy; it was very fun. Finally, Lisa and Paul stopped by again during the evening, and the entire family talked to each other about stuff that I didn't listen to. As usual, Paul continued to taunt me with his annoyingly, snobbish smile, but this time, I knew better than to speak out against him for a second time, for the sake of Lisa.

Finally, nighttime dawned, and Lisa and Paul took their cue to leave.

"Bye, Aunt Lisa!" Lenore says, hugging Lisa's leg lovingly.

"Bye, Lenore," Lisa replies, smiling and ruffling her niece's hair. "In a couple of weeks, you'll be the flower girl! Are you excited?"

"Uh-huh!" Lenore accompanies her response with rather emphatic nods. It was actually cute, so cute that it made me partially regret my decision to make my leave tonight. Lenore was probably the only reason I completely enjoyed the company of my eldest child.

"So, Lis, how does it feel to be Mrs. Lisa Hawkes?" Bart asked after hugging Lisa.

"Quite exhilarating." Lisa smiled at Paul, and he smiled back with his snobbish smile. I seriously felt like punching him in the goddamn face. This anger only increased the moment he kissed my daughter. Fortunately, the anger was alleviated by Lenore's cringing at the romantic scene.

Finally, Lisa talks to me. "Bye, Henry. I hope there's good things ahead of you in your future."

I didn't wanna somehow spill the beans as I reply to her, so I just nod. Then, she hugs me. For some reason, there was something about that hug that set me off.

Then, she whispers in my ear, so quietly that I almost didn't catch it at first: "I know who you are..._Dad_."

I blink, all emotions from me somehow frozen in time. I seemed to be some sort of shell, full of void on the inside. Lisa lets go of me, gives me a light kiss on the cheek, and leaves with Paul, hand in hand. When Bart closes the door, I blink again, and my emotions catch up to me. My eyes widen in shock, but fortunately, no one's there to see my reaction, for they all departed back to the kitchen.

Well, except for Lenore.

"Henry?" she asks.

"Y-Ye-Yeah?" I stutter.

"Wanna play with Mr. Bear and Poppy again?"

Struggling to keep myself together, I smile, ruffle her hair, and say, "Sorry, kiddo. I'm really tired right now. I think I need to go and catch some Z's..."

"Is that _possible_? I don't think people can catch Z's. Unless you write it down..."

I chuckle and ruffle her hair again. "You know, you're alright, kiddo. You're alright. Tell your dad I said good night. And...thank you for all your help."

I walk away from Lenore and go up the stairs, my mind sinking into thoughts of how Lisa was able to deduce that I wasn't who I said I was. Well, she _is_ smart...

But...if she knows who I am, does that mean..._she_ wrote the letter?

* * *

I stayed up all night, just staring at the ceiling of the guestroom, imagining a scene playing out on it. I would reunite with Marge and Maggie, and tell my true identity to Bart and Lisa. At first, they all act nice to me, telling me that they are glad to have me back and that they are ready to be my family again. Then, they stab me in the back. And when I say stab me in the back, I mean it literally. Naturally, Maggie pulls out a knife and stabs me twice in the back. As I bleed out, Marge, Bart, and Lisa all point at me and accuse me of being a bad husband/father. Then, Henry appears and says...

"Told you so."

I yell out and sit up on my bed. That moment there, I could've sworn I heard Henry's voice, speaking to me. ...But he isn't in the room. _This_ again?

"Hello?" I ask.

There was no response. I sigh and lie back down on my bed, continuing to allow the scene I was imagining earlier to play out again.

After a few minutes, I glance at the clock. It is midnight.

I stand from my bed, gather all of the supplies in my bag, and tiptoe out of my room, across the other bedrooms, down the staircase, and into the kitchen. As I raid the kitchen of what food and drinks I need, I begin to feel pity for Bart, Dani, and Lenore. I gain their trust, and then, I take the path most homeless bums take and steal any valuables. So, I decide to put away some of the food and drinks, just for their sake, and then I make my leave.

Approaching the front door, I take a set of keys that are hanging on a nail beside it, unlock the door, open it, and tiptoe outside.

"Goodbye, Bart," I whisper. "Sorry."

I then close the door, look out into the street, and take a deep breath.

Then, I begin my journey.

* * *

After hours of walking, I reach downtown Springfield. I start to wonder why I thought Springfield was Springfield, Illinois, in the first place. At first, it looked exactly like Springfield, Illinois, but then, as I adjusted to my surroundings, it becomes..._Springfield_. Does this mean Springfield is located in Illinois? Even while I was living here as a family man, it had been very confusing as to which Springfield I was living in.

Walking down a familiar street, I spot a certain location that stirs memories: Moe's Tavern. Curiosity peaking, I decide to go inside, and lo and behold, I find my drinking buddies there, drinking as usual. Moe Szyslak, the bartender, was most affected by fifteen years of aging, looking more hideous and gargoyle-like, and his scalp was free of his curly gray hair, which was now primarily residing near his temples. Lenny Leonard and Carl Carlson were still drinking beside one another, beer bellies more obvious on their abdomens. And Barney Gumble, my friend from high school, was conspicuously absent; I assumed that he literally drowned his sorrows out with too much alcohol, or died in a drunk-driving accident.

"Hey, looky over here, fellas!" Moe shouts. "Homer's back!"

I freeze in my tracks. How'd Moe find out I was Homer?

To my relief, Moe suddenly looks confused, and then chuckles. "Oh, sorry. I thought you was some person I knew from a while back."

In my mind, I am sighing with relief. I sit on a stool, take out some money, and give it to Moe.

"The usual," I say.

"Which is?" he asks.

Oh. "A regular Duff Beer."

* * *

I decide to let alcohol guide me for the rest of the night. I barely remember much, but the things that I remember seem to involve the same house from my dreams, the one whose driveway I stand at as I watch silently for many hours, without making movement. A new thing about the house, though, was that the lights were on, and I could see a familiar beehive-styled stack of hair...

I wake up in a strange alleyway, my head spinning as fast as a carnival ride. My vision was blurry, but I could identify someone kneeling in front of me, observing me.

When my vision adjusts, I immediately identify the person. It is Henry.

"Rise and shine."

* * *

**A/N:** It looks like Lisa knows who Homer really is, and Henry makes a reappearance! Whatever will happen next?

I'd like to thank the following for reviewing:

**damonika2009:** Looks like you'll still have to find out! :D

**Sweet 20s12:** Here's what happens next!

**Narfy:** Fortunately, THIS chapter's longer!

**YoungAuthor29**

**Comicbookguy666**

**GirlWednesday**

**Sideshow Cellophane 26:** You'll see who wrote the note, and unfortunately, Homer leaves. Sorry. :(

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	9. Entry 9

**A/N:** My. Effing. GOD. I am really SORRY for the long wait. I was more focused on my P&F fics, but now, I finally remembered this! ENJOY!

Hopefully this doesn't affect my reviews...

* * *

"_Henry_?" I ask.

Henry smirks at me. "In the flesh," he replies.

"W-What? How'd you find me here?"

"Knowing your alcoholism and your history at Moe's Tavern, I went here the moment I found that you were missing. You're not exactly hard to find."

I stand up, a feeling of dizziness overwhelming my head. I instantly identify the alleyway being at one side of Moe's. I lose my balance, but Henry, he catches me and supports me as I practically limp onto the street. There, I find the familiar RV waiting. The two of us get inside, where Henry sets me carefully on a sofa and then goes to the freezer, opening it and tossing a can of soda to me. Groaning, I open it up and empty the can of its liquid contents, relishing in the replenishment.

"Why in the world did ya run off, man?" asks Henry, his face looking calm and soft but his voice stern and reprimanding.

"I thought I'd take a walk, and I got lost," I lied. Bad move. For some reason, whenever I lie, Henry always finds out. This was no exception.

"Yeah, and I'm not a booze salesman." Henry quickly took a newspaper from the table and flashed it in my face; it was the same one I brought back from Chicago, the one with Lisa and Paul's faces on the front-page article photo. I sigh and look into Henry's eyes as he continues. "So, you ran off to find your damn family, huh? Try and reconnect with them? Huh? Well, how'd it go, man? Was it a nice doozy? Did they happily rejoice in your return and accept you back into their lives?"

"They didn't know it was me," I reply. "Well, Bart didn't recognize me, and I didn't get a chance to see Marge and Maggie. But Lisa...she knows who I am."

"And what was _her_ reaction?"

"She...she just told me that she knew before she left the house. That was the last time I saw her. ...I never knew her reaction."

Henry just smirked. "But knowing her and her smart-aleck nature, she's gonna blab it all out to the rest of the family. You did a good thing in running out before they could turn on you, like the savages they all are..."

"They're not savages," I say defensively. "They're good people. It was...it was just _my_ fault they hate me. I made a really stupid mistake, and that cost me my future."

"Really? And what motivated you to make that mistake, huh? There's a reason for everything."

"I got drunk, of course. I believe I told you that part of the story hundreds of times before."

"But why'd you get drunk in the first place?"

"BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH."

"And, of course, that was because you were lazy. Why so lazy?"

I sigh. "Don't complicate things, Henry. I was a lazy person during that time."

"Why. So. LAZY?"

"Hey, being fat, eating unhealthy food, and drinking beer always brings laziness to a person. There was another reason, though, wasn't there? What do you mean?"

"There was another reason to your laziness, _wasn't there_?"

"I am pretty sure that was it, Henry."

He scoffs. "Don't lie, Homer. I _know_ there's an underlying reason behind all of your actions."

"Yeah? How do you know? You weren't there when I lived my old life."

His smirk widens. "Maybe I wasn't...maybe I _was_..."

"What?"

Henry just smirks mysteriously and turns away. "Nothing."

"No, you definitely just said something. Something about you being there while I was living my life. What in the world are you talking about, Henry?" I pause briefly as a realization suddenly hits me. "You. It was you who wrote that letter, wasn't it?"

Henry nods without looking at me. "Got it correct, Homie boy. Your family would never have accepted you back into their lives. I was just saving your ass."

"Look, Henry, I know you don't like the concept of a family (in fact, you despise it), but I just wanted to see how my family was doing, you know? I was just planning to hang around for a couple of days, see how everyone was doing, and then make my leave."

"Really?" Henry looks at me, arms crossed. "Was that your plan, Homer? Just so called hang around for a few days?"

"Yes." But doubt casts a shadow on me. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Henry repeats. "Maybe? Homer, your ass would've been killed had I not intervened. After all, your family was so fed up with all of the mistakes you've made and forced upon them in the past, dear God, especially that last one, that your attempt at reconciliation would've been nothing more than attempting to quell a swarm of angry bees trying to protect their hive."

"You're wrong," I spat. "You don't know my family. They'll forgive me, sooner or later."

"Oh, really?" Henry begins pacing around, and for some reason, my legs suddenly feel sore. "Do you think, that after your little doozy fifteen years ago, that they will forgive you? What makes you think that they'll forgive you of your sin? Especially that Marge chick? No wife would be generous enough to forgive her husband for his unfaithfulness. And besides, don't you think that your family is now better off without you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Bart's obviously a successful architect who is rich, and Lisa is about to marry the son of a very wealthy businessman. Marge's got a job, and who the hell knows what Maggie's up to? Trust me, man…they've moved on from your life."

"Not Lisa," I say defiantly. "She still knows who I am."

"Uh-huh..." To my complete and utter surprise, Henry steps out of the way, giving me full access to the door. "Okay then, Homer. If you think precious lil' Lisa still loves you at the least, then I think you're free to go, then. Go on, get outta here."

I look at Henry in confusion, and he stares back with his taunting eyes and strange smirk. Finally, I decide to stand up and open the door.

What I see completely shocks me.

Moe's Tavern isn't there.

In fact, none of the buildings that belong to the Springfield I know are there. Instead, it's just your average city street, busy with cars and pedestrians walking on the sidewalks. In the place of Moe's Tavern is, quite ironically, an Alcoholics Anonymous host building.

"What the?" I ask. "What happened to Springfield?"

"Which Springfield are you talking about, Homer?" Henry replies, his crafty smirk widening. "Springfield, Illinois, or Springfield, your _home_?"

I glare at him furiously. "What. Did. You. DO?" I demand.

"What did I do? More like what did _you_ do?"

"Stop confusing me, Henry!" I snarl. "I obviously didn't do ANY of this!"

"Oh, really? You've done more than you think you've known."

"Just tell me what's happening, Henry! How in the world did we get here without the goddamn RV moving? We didn't just teleport or anything, did we?"

"No, of course not! There's no such thing as teleportation, no."

"Then what happened?!"

"I'll tell you what happened. It's quite simple: you've gone crazy."

"Crazy, me? Nah, I can't be crazy!"

"Oh, really?"

"STOP SAYING THAT, HENRY!"

He ignores me, and what he says next sends everything home.

"Then explain how you're talking to yourself."

* * *

**A/N:** :O So Henry's never been there the whole time? Homer's gone crazy? GUH?

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

**damonika2009**

**Pudgemounain:** This is what happens! Shocking, isn't it?

**Sweet20s12:** Well, now you know who wrote the note.

**GirlWednesday**

**Da Darkest Knight:** That was never the intention, but good note there.

**Narfy:** We'll see a Homer-and-Lisa conversation soon, and as for Henry, this is what happens!

**nas88:** Sorry, not interested.

**Sideshow Cellophane 26**

**Comicbookguy666:** XD

**SomebodyWhoWrites:** Hey, thanks for the review! I loved it!

Well, hope you enjoyed this new chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	10. Entry 10

"Crazy?" I demand. "What do you mean I've gone crazy?"

"What do you think, Homer?" Henry replies.

"I can't have gone crazy! I would've known!"

"Really? That's what all the crazies say..."

"I AM NOT CRAZY!"

"Excuse me, are you okay over there, mister?" a new voice asks suddenly. I turn around and see a couple looking at me with the strangest expressions. It was as if I was a ferocious bear or something. They looked pretty unnerved at the sight of me.

"Hey, can you tell my friend to stop telling me I'm crazy?" I tell them.

"Who?" the woman replies.

"Him!" I point frantically at Henry's direction, but to my shock and horror, he isn't there. I am standing alone in our RV, looking like a complete idiot.

"Sir, I think you need some help-" says the man, but I cut him off.

"NO! NO, NO, NO! I AM NOT CRAZY, I AM NOT!"

I slam the door on the couple's faces, quickly run over to the driver's seat, start the RV, and drive away. Looking around, observing the buildings on both sides of the road, I desperately search for any type of residence that I am familiar with. Lard Lad's Donuts, the First Church of Springfield, Springfield Elementary School...oh heck, even the damn power plant was quite welcoming to me right now! But no, I couldn't see anything that was familiar. Just...buildings. One building after the other, and I couldn't distinguish a single goddamn name that struck a chord of familiarity! I start becoming fidgety in my seat, and one of my eyelids twitch incessantly.

"Told you, you were going nuts."

I glare at Henry furiously, and I stop the RV.

"WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON, HENRY?! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?!"

"Like I said, you've gone crazy. You're a nut-job. You've totally gone cuckoo." He made a circle around his temple with his index finger, whistling rather comically. "How much more general can I make my statements so I could penetrate your thick skull? THAT is what's happening to you, and THAT is why these things are happening!"

"So..._that's_ why all of this has been happening to me?" I ask, calming down in an instant as the truth sinks into my brain. "I've just lost my mind?"

Henry nods. "You see, Homer, all those times you've gotten your head bashed in because of your foolish antics, they've affected your mind far more severely than you would've imagined. I reckon all of this wouldn't have happened had you sought a better doctor, instead of crawling to that excuse you call Dr. Hibbert-"

"So, you're a figment of my imagination?" I interrupt.

Henry smiles and snaps his fingers; at that moment, a split-second-long pricking sensation went off in my head. "Correct! All this time, you fabricated me when Marge kicked you out of the house, as just means of coping with what had happened. I am made up of everything you wanted to be. As a booze salesman, I have unlimited access to alcohol, and you've always wanted to be a hell of a showman. I'm also thin, and I have a head of hair, and then there's the anti-family attitude. Man, you've always hated having a family, so I inherited that part too-"

"Wait, who says that I hate families?" I interrupt again. "I love my family."

Henry smirks, and suddenly, I watch in shock as he turns into me, twenty-six years younger.

"YOU'RE **PREGNANT**?!" Henry cries, using my own voice. He then lets out a girlish scream as he rips out large tufts of brown hair before running off.

I blink, and he's there again, this time using my image twenty-four years younger.

"YOU'RE PREGNANT **AGAIN**?!" he screams, again in my own voice. And then, he screams girlishly again, rips out all remaining hair except for three strands, and runs off.

I blink again, and I'm there, seventeen years younger.

"New job?" A brief pause, but I was expecting what was gonna happen next. "MARGE IS PREGNANT?!" He then rips out one of the hair strands in shock and frustration. "**NOOOOOOOOOO**!" And again with the girlish scream and running off.

I blink once again, and Henry's there, now using his own image…the one I created for him…

"What do you say about THAT?" he asks, smirking triumphantly.

I frown at him. "Look, just because all of my kids were unplanned and conceived during golden moments of my life doesn't mean I hate raising them. I know I have my differences with them, but that doesn't affect our relationships."

"Well, either way, Homer boy, I am a product of your mind."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "If you're a product of my mind, then doesn't that mean I can make you do whatever I want you to do? Like, say..._disappear_?"

Henry lets out a laugh. "Oh, here's three new words for your vocabulary, good ol' Homer: Dissociative. Identity. Disorder. I am product of your mind to you, but to me, I AM you. You cannot fight me. You are compelled to project me as I am."

I blink stupidly, allowing all of this information to sink in. Once I get the message, I slump over slightly in my seat and look out of the window. The sun was beginning to rise, signaling a new morning for...

I look at Henry. "Wait a minute, Henry, if I am crazy...if I am...imagining things, then where in the world am I right now? Springfield, Illinois, or Springfield..._home_?"

He smirks. "As we share minds, Homie, I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that."

I frown at him again. "You know, Henry, you really do seem to be relishing in this moment."

"Well, you added some new tricks into me while creating me. Like the fact that I'm an ass."

He suddenly flies a fist at my face, and the next thing I see is total darkness. At one point during my blackout, I hear a panicked female voice, but I could not register what was happening.

Once I open my eyes, responding to a sliver of light that is pricking at my eyelids, I find myself lying on the steering wheel of the RV. I look out of the windshield, only to see numerous cracks decorating it, slithering through its surface with the shape of spider-legs. The RV seemed to have been violently rolling down a steep decline, judging by the position I'm in, as well as the devastation that riddled the seats and walls. When I look out of the door window, my suspicions are instantly confirmed, as the RV appears to be on a hill, a hill that was growing tall trees that tower above my sights.

One of my feet is near the door window. Acting on instinct, I shatter it with a couple of well-placed kicks. I then begin to crawl out of the window, and as I do, I notice that I appear to be in the middle of a forest; trees are surrounding me everywhere. In fact, a tree apparently broke the RV's fall, no pun intended.

As I continue crawling out, something slashes at my arm, and I feel a blade cutting through my skin. I had forgotten to clear the edges of any remaining glass shards. The pain motivates me to crawl out of the RV faster, and I fall onto the ground, clutching my wounded arm. I look at it, and see blood trickling slowly out of the gash.

I slowly stand up and make my way up the hill. As I do, I feel the world spin around me...

I collapse on the ground and roll down the hill...

* * *

**A/N:** Oh no, Homer! What's gonna happen to him? Or do you think it could be just another hallucination?

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

**damonika2009**

**Sideshow Cellophane 26:** Well, you now know...

**Sweet20s12:** You'll see more Homer/Lisa interactions soon.

**Pudgemounain**

**Narfy:** Well, you'll learn more about Homer's so-called craziness...

**Comicbookguy666:** No, you're not stupid. Though all of these assumptions are incorrect, they're good!

**SomebodyWhoWrites:** Why, thanks! I'm glad you love it!

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	11. AUTHOR'S NOTE: DISCONTINUED

All right, everyone, quick announcement!

Because I am heavily focused on my "Phineas and Ferb" stories, plus my "Yellow Trees" story, I am sorry to announce that this story has been canceled. I know, canceled at the point where you'd want it to continue most badly. I am very sorry about that, but I don't feel inspired to continue this anymore. However, since I've always merely deleted my other "Simpsons" stories that I wasn't pleased with or could not continue, I've decided to instead leave this up for people to read still. Besides, maybe there'll come a time when I decide to continue this again, like I did to another of my stories.

So yeah, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, everyone. My life just brings the worst of surprises. On the bright side, you can now fully enjoy "Yellow Trees", which I promise you will be as awesome as "The Thompsons"! :D

TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


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